Bad Religion
by ToGleeksWithLove
Summary: If she has to beg forgiveness for something she can't control, than that isn't the God she should be praying to. Quinn-centric. Established Quinntana.


**A.N.: **Here's a little something to keep you guys in the loop and to get me back into the swing of things.

**Disclaimer:** Ryan has officially signed over all rights to Glee and Frank Ocean is like my biological father, soo.

Quinn ran faster than she ever did as the tears streaked down her cheeks. She had just left her childhood house after a nasty run in with her Father who'd shown up unexpectedly. She says house because it was never a home. If anyone knew that a house and a home were two different things, it was Lucy Quinn Fabray.

She ran until she reached downtown Lima. Even without the slightest idea where she was going, Quinn easily caught a taxi. Something that she and Santana would always joke was an attribute to their natural good looks.

_Santana._

The blonde haired girl could barely think her name without reminding her of what just transpired. Breathing in and out slowly was enough to allow Quinn to register that she was being asked about her destination.

"Ohio International. Can you take the main roads please?." The driver looked confused at her request to basically sit in traffic but nodded regardless. Quinn sat back and wiped at the relentless stream of tears flowing for everyone to see.

_Taxi driver_

_Be my shrink for the hour_

_Leave the meter running_

_It's rush hour_

_So take the streets_

_If you wanna_

_Just outrun the demons_

_Could ya?_

Demons. They seemed to haunt her in this dead end town. Maybe the fact that it was a dead end town cemented these hauntings. People and secrets alike that come in rarely get out. They just spread around until word dies down or something bigger happens.

It happened with the talk of a third Fabray being captain of the Cheerios her freshman year. It happened when said Cheerio got pregnant and plummeted to her social death. The real turn of events happened when the traumatized teen exchanged anger and sadness for joy and accomplishment at the hands of a Yale acceptance letter.

Bitterly, Quinn wondered how long it would take for this gossip to spread.

Feeling for about the fifth time that she was being watched, Quinn looked up. Every time she looked up into the reflect of the rearview mirror, the cab driver would smile sadly and whisper something under his breath.

It wasn't English. Quinn knew that from all her foreign language studies at Yale that it was Arabic. She just wished she knew what he was saying. She hopes it was a prayer from the fact that he used such a pitying tone of voice.

_He said "Allahu akbar"_

_I told him don't curse me_

_"Bo Bo, you need prayer"_

_I guess it couldn't hurt me_

Her father was another feat in her oh so mighty life. Russell Fabray: known asshole and father of two. She can say these things because even though he is her father, he's done some pretty hateful shit so she thinks he can tolerate a little mental name-calling now and then.

Jesus. She wasn't even supposed to be back in Lima. It was stupid enough for her to think they'd be proud that for once in her life, she's doing right by her and is finally happy. Happy with Santana Lopez of all people.

But happiness doesn't exist. Not when you're a Fabray and sure as hell not when you're coming out to your Christian parents as a homosexual.

But God exists for sure. And according to something her mother once said, "God is mighty. For He is the only true love you will ever need from a man." What a hypocrite.

_If it brings me to my knees_

_It's a bad religion_

_This unrequited love_

_To me it's nothing but a one-man cult_

She was taught that God made us all in His image. So how can something He allowed her to feel ever be wrong? She just couldn't understand it. There was only so much she could believe in before questions were raised. Believing everything without evidence was like being led blind. Being led blind by the leader of a one man cult.

_And cyanide_

_In my styrofoam cup_

_I can never make him love me_

_Never make him love me_

Russell uses the excuse, "If you loved God, or even this family, you wouldn't go around acting like a little heathen." to intimidate her. It's laughable really, but she's grown up. She's not little Quinnie anymore.

Lucy would've cried, begged for forgiveness, and tried change herself.

Quinn would've took every bitter word like a slap in the face. She's had plenty of those to know it doesn't hurt as much as it used to.

But now, Quinn 2.0 is here and she's not taking any of this shit. She's said her peace and left before they could see her anymore vulnerable. After all, she accepted long ago after her pregnancy that she can never make him, or any man for that matter, love her.

_Love me_

_Love me_

_Love me_

_Love me_

_Love me_

_Love me_

_Love me_

_Love me_

_Love me_

_Love_

She's through with the pleaded, the reasoning, and the lying. Santana's shown her she doesn't need all that. She only needs to lead one life. The one that defines her. The one that lets her love Santana. The one that lets her graduate Yale at the top of her class. The one that lets her get a career and settle down with the love of her life and a loving family.

That's the type of life she wants. Not the one where she's constantly being berated for her actions or looked down on. Not the life that Russell Fabray created for her.

In a calmer yet somehow more determined mood, Quinn shoves her headphones in and lets the relatable words of a true genius wash over her entire being an relax her.

_Taxi driver I swear I've got three lives_

_Balanced on my head like steak knives_

_I can't tell you the truth about my disguise_

_I can't trust no one_

But she can. Because she has Santana and because Santana has her. That's all she needed, needs, and will ever need.

_And you said "Allahu akbar"_

_I told him don't curse me_

_"Bo Bo, you need prayer"_

_I guess it couldn't hurt me_

_If it brings me to my knees_

_It's a bad religion_

_Unrequited love_

_To me it's nothing but a one-man cult_

She tells herself this over and over again during the hour and fourty-two minutes long plane ride from Lima to New York.

_And cyanide_

_In my styrofoam cup_

_I can never make him love me_

_Never make him love me_

_No, no_

_It's a bad religion_

_To be in love with someone_

_Who could never love you_

Technically, she doesn't follow a bad religion. Because Santana loves her. She's proven it time and time again. But something inside her tells her that she's about to prove it one more time.

And she was right. She had to be because there was no other explanation as to why her Latina would be standing in the middle of a New York airport in broad daylight with unshed tears shining in her eyes. It was in that moment that Quinn realized maybe Santana was her bad religion. An she was completely, undoubtedly okay with that.

_Only bad_

_Only bad religion_

_Could have me feeling_

_The way I do_

**A.N.:** So? How was it? My apologies if it wasn't up to par. I wrote it at around 2 am. Sleep deprivation will do that to a person. Anyway, REVIEW MY PRETTIES! _Until next time..._

TPE


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